War of the Orders
by Katalina O'Riley
Summary: Takes place after the fifth book, with a rather different plot direction than the 6th. The war is only just beginning and Harry and gang discover that it may take more than the Order of the Pheonix to fight back against Voldemort... please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

The War of the Orders Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or stuff in the books or any of that business because if I did, a certain sexy Scottish Quidditch player would have a much bigger role in the story than he does now and Sirius Black wouldn't even dream of dying. As it is, I just like to mess around with what little material I have and pretend that the story line is taking a completely different direction than the one that Rowling seems to be taking it in. 

Author's Note: I'm trying to keep my story as close to canon as possible so if I make any slip-ups please feel free to let me know and I will try to fix them as soon as possible or explain why I changed something. Now that I've finally started writing this fic I have no idea how long it will take me to post chapters and all that good stuff so please be patient and also please R&R! ..

Chapter One: The Beginning 

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It was a beautiful summer morning when Harry Potter awoke in his bed at number four, Privet Drive. He felt unusually happy and for a moment could not remember why. That's when it came to him; today was the day he was leaving to spend the rest of the summer with the Weasleys. There was nothing that could bring him down on a morning like today.

But, of course, he was forgetting his family, if one could even call them that. The Dursleys had been just as nasty as usual to Harry, only this summer Dudley kept his distance.

Harry slowly crept his way downstairs, not in a big hurry to greet the people who somehow managed to make his life miserable every summer. Just after he stepped into the hallway, Hedwig, his beautiful snowy owl, flew down after him with a very short note attached to her leg. Harry smiled as he looked down and recognized Ron's unruly scrawl and proceeded to read the note.

_Harry,_

_Dad says be ready at 4 o'clock. We're driving over this time, so don't let the muggles give you any grief. See you soon,_

_Ron_

Still smiling at the prospect of leaving today, Harry glanced at the hall clock and sighed.

_Only seven more hours to go then…_

He figured he would break the news to his aunt and uncle later.

Hearing the noise of the TV on in the kitchen, Harry decided that it should be safe enough to go in and try to grab something for breakfast and be out before he got harassed. He had managed to get all the way across the room and snatch a piece of toast before he realized that his aunt and uncle hadn't noticed him at all. Both of them were sitting transfixed at the kitchen table, their eyes never straying from the television screen.

Suddenly interested, Harry saw that they were watching a shaken looking news reporter. Her voice wavered as she talked about the tragic explosion and how no one had seen it coming or could have done anything to save the lives of the three unidentified persons whom had been in the house at the time.

Harry felt his blood run cold and he tried desperately to tune out all the horrible ideas that were running through his mind. Then he noticed that he had completely crushed his piece of toast.

_So much for breakfast…_

Deciding to skip out on eating and finish packing instead, Harry dashed out of the room and back up the stairs, only to sit down stiffly on his bed and stare at the wall in shock.

What did this mean? That it was Voldemort who had killed the three innocent muggles, Harry had no doubt. He knew it would only be a matter of time once the Dark Lord had returned before he began to kill again. It was only the third week of summer vacation so Voldemort hadn't wasted any time before regrouping and making the first attack.

The first attack. Of course there would be more, but who, and when? There was no way to tell and Harry was more than a little unnerved as he finally got up and began to stuff things back into his school trunk.

Three o'clock came and went and Harry decided it would be a good time to go down and tell the Dursleys he would be leaving in less than an hour. After one last check to make sure he had everything, he locked up his trunk and walked back downstairs, deliberately smacking his trunk on each step so that his uncle would know he was coming.

"Boy, stop that racket!" Harry could see his uncle, sitting there in the living room with his face slowly turning purple in irritation and an unfortunate newspaper being crumpled in his lap.

"Uncle Vernon," Harry paused to make sure the large man in front of him was listening, "You remember my friends the Weasleys, right? Well, they're coming to pick me up today. Actually, in about fifteen minutes… just thought you might want to know."

"What? I will not have those people come crashing through my fireplace again! Do you hear me boy? I will not have them in this house!" Uncle Vernon had leapt to his feet and was now clenching and unclenching his fists, probably itching to grab Harry by the neck and give him a good shake. He had been like this ever since Harry had come back, seeming a bit eager to find any reason to squeeze the life out of him.

"Don't worry about the fireplace this time," Harry smirked at his uncle's large purple face, basking in this chance to poke fun. "Ron says they're driving here to pick me up." With that, Harry turned on his heel and strode from the room to go and wait on the stairs.

About ten minutes later, a knock sounded on the front door. Harry couldn't help grinning as he practically flew down the remaining two or three steps to run and answer the door. He flung it wide to find Ron with Mr. Weasley, who was standing at the door of a huge black car with little flags on the hood that Harry could only assume were Ministry regulation.

"Dad figured it would be better if he waited outside this time; reckon he thought I might seem like less of a threat to the muggles or something." Ron shook his head, still grinning and stepped inside to help Harry with his trunk.

"Looks like the Dursleys have decided otherwise," Harry stated realizing that his uncle was no longer in the living room and Dudley's television was, for once, quiet. They both laughed and Ron followed Harry upstairs to his room.

"It's good to see you again mate, even if it's only been a few weeks." Ron surprised Harry with his words and a sudden clap on the shoulder. Harry stopped checking the clasps on his trunk and looked up at his best friend.

"It's good to see you too, Ron." At this they both smiled again and between the two of them got the trunk and Hedwig's cage down the stairs and out of the house. With a shout through the door to let the Dursleys know they wouldn't have to see him again for several months, Harry shut the door and ran the rest of the way down the walk to where the two Weasleys were waiting for him.

"Ready to go Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked him as he held the car door open.

"Of course Mr. Weasley," Harry said, finally happy for the first time this summer. He would always be ready to leave Privet Drive.

Finally having gotten his breath back after being nearly squeezed to death in Mrs. Weasley's embrace, Harry was able to turn and greet the other people in the room. He had barely had a chance to look around before he had the breath knocked out of him by his other best friend, Hermione Granger, who seemed intent on suffocating him as well.

"Oh Harry," she sighed. "How are you?"

"It's only been a couple of weeks, Hermione. I'm fine." Harry smiled at his friend's concern. He knew that everyone was worried about him, especially after the incident at the department of mysteries. The truth was, he was broken up inside over Sirius's death. Somehow, though, he still managed to put up a brave face for his friends; they were all he had left. Hermione let go of him, even though she wasn't completely satisfied with his answer, and Harry had a chance to notice everyone else in the room. He was surprised to see all of the Weasleys, including Charlie and most surprisingly, Percy.

"All right, everyone go outside and get the tables set for dinner," Mrs. Weasley said in a tone that suggested they had no choice in the matter. Smiling at each other, the three friends walked together out into the back yard with an armload of dishes each to help Bill and Charlie set up the tables.

"Mum says we're not allowed to use magic this time." Said Charlie, winking at his younger brother and his friends as he and Bill carried a table outside. "Can't imagine why."

They all laughed, thinking back to another summer evening when one of the tables had lost a leg, and Harry was once again reminded why he always looked forward to summers at the Weasley's. They all had so little to laugh about these days, he thought, remembering the news of the three deaths this morning. He decided to ask Ron about it the next chance he got.

"Where's Ginny?" Ron asked, looking around the yard.

"Oh she's been put on kitchen duty, I'm afraid," said Hermione in a matter-of-fact tone. "She was in a rage about it earlier. Apparently your mum told her she had to learn to cook sooner or later before she gets married and that seemed to put her in a right state."

At that moment, Fred and George calmly walked out of the kitchen, each of them carrying a single spoon with innocent expressions on their faces.

"What are you two up to with those?" Bill asked his younger brothers, gesturing at the spoons.

"Oh nothing, just helping our dear sister bring out the silverware," George replied calmly, their faces cracking into identical evil grins.

Behind them, the screen door burst open with a bang and there stood Ginny Weasley with an armload of cutlery and her face bright red. She looked as though she were ready to explode.

"You two!" she screamed at the offending redheads.

"Wonder what she's mad about?" said Fred and George before they both tossed up their spoons and took off running, still grinning like mad.

"Last time I ever ask the two of them for help," Ginny muttered as she walked over and dumped all the silverware on one of the tables. "Ron, will you go get a couple of table cloths?" She asked with a sigh.

"Already got them," Charlie dumped a heap of white linen unceremoniously on top of the silverware.

"Thanks, Charlie."

"No problem Gin," he said, either not noticing the sarcasm in her voice or ignoring it. He then proceeded to ruffle her hair making her look very undignified and quickly returned to the house before she had a chance to yell at him.

"Well I think we'll just be going then, won't we Harry?" Ron said, trying his best to edge away from his fuming sister unnoticed.

"Oh no you don't," she said, rounding on them. "You're going to help me set these tables and you had better do a good job!"

At this Ron sighed and slumped his shoulders in defeat before his little sister who was easily a foot shorter than him.

"I swear, she's bloody turning into Mum." He mumbled while Harry helped him spread out one of the table clothes, trying his best not to burst out laughing.

"Careful, she might hear you." He answered back, grinning at his friend and tossing him a spoon.

After a few minutes of spreading table clothes and putting out plates and silverware, Harry decided to ask the question that had been nagging at him since he first entered the Weasley's living room.

"So I suppose Percy's decided to come around then, has he?" he asked Ron quietly while the others weren't paying attention.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you then, didn't I? Well, after what happened at the end of last year and us all almost dying and all that, well he just sort of cracked. Came home not long after we got back from school and told Dad he was quitting his job. That's when we knew something was wrong; Percy loves his job. So anyway, Dad told him he shouldn't do that, Fudge just made a mistake is all. Hell of a big mistake if you ask me. And well, he's been back here ever since, trying to make up with everyone and all. I don't think I've ever seen Percy so, well you should have seen the way he was about that letter!" Ron said, referring to the pompous letter Percy had written him the year before about turning against Harry.

"So if he comes after you begging forgiveness," he continued, "don't be too surprised."

Harry was a bit surprised, Percy had never been his favorite Weasley brother but he hadn't liked being against him either. It had been really awkward last summer, when no one could even mention him without Mrs. Weasley bursting into tears.

Suddenly the screen door burst open and this time, Mrs. Weasley stood on the threshold, serving spoon in hand.

"All right," she said. "Everyone come and get something."

Everyone obediently filed back in after her with Harry and Ron last. Percy was waiting for them at the door, looking determined.

"Told you," Ron whispered as he walked past Harry into the kitchen.

Percy fidgeted as he watched him go in which made Harry stare. Percy never fidgeted. "Harry, I just wanted to say…" he trailed off, seeming to be looking for the right words. "Well, about last year and all,"

"Percy," Harry interrupted him when he saw this was going to take awhile. "It's alright, Ron's told me everything. Everyone makes mistakes, you know." Harry suddenly wondered at his own forgiveness as Percy smiled gratefully and motioned for Harry to go in ahead of him just as Bill was coming back out carrying a huge bowl of potatoes.

"Best go in and get the rest, else Mum might think of something else for you to do," he said with a wink. With that they both rushed inside.

After passing everything around the table at least once and everyone settling in to enjoy their meal, Harry's thoughts once again drifted back to the attack shown this morning on the news. He couldn't wait to ask Ron if there had been anything else happening while he was away in the muggle world. After looking around the table and seeing that everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves, Harry decided not to ruin the mood and ask Ron about it later.

It was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago, they had battled it out with Voldemort and now he was once again known to be alive. Everyone here seemed so at ease and they were all having such a good time, just the way it had been the summer before fourth year. Sirius had still been alive and so had Cedric and Harry hadn't even had to worry about Voldemort at all.

But he knew that they were well protected here, Mr. Weasley had explained to him in the car on the way over that wards had been put up all over the house and aurors were monitoring them at all times to make sure nothing was amiss. Harry had been worrying silently over the three deaths this morning all afternoon and he finally decided to relax. They were all safe, for now.

Everyone gradually wandered off to bed until only Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were left sitting around the living room. Hermione was trying to convince Ron that orange wasn't his color and it still wouldn't be if he dyed his hair so he should just drop it and Ginny was dozing on the sofa in what looked to be one of the most uncomfortable positions possible. Harry didn't feel like talking to anyone so he just sat staring contentedly into the empty fireplace.

"Well, since _Hermione_ has decided to be difficult, I think I'm going to bed." Ron stood up and stretched, his fingertips touching the ceiling, he had gotten so tall. "Coming Harry?"

Harry nodded and said goodnight to the girls as he followed Ron upstairs. He suddenly felt exhausted and decided he could wait to ask Ron for news in the morning. The two boys kicked off their shoes and put on their pajamas and went to bed. Harry had one last thought before he went to sleep: a vision of Ginny laughing at dinner, and then again of her dozing in the chair downstairs. If Ron had looked over just then he probably would have wondered what it was that had Harry grinning in such a ridiculous way.


	2. Chapter 2

The War of the Orders Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or stuff in the books or any of that business. 

Author's Note: Ok I know that Chapter One was kind of uneventful but it will get better. Hopefully, now that this second chapter is out things will start picking up a little bit. Well I hope you like it and if you don't, well that's nice. Either way, please R&R!

Chapter Two: Ron's Dreams 

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No sooner had Harry fallen asleep, than he felt like he was being woken up again.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled irritably and rolled over. Couldn't Ron see it wasn't even light out yet? When Ron made another oddly muffled type sound, Harry opened his eyes to tell him to bugger off. That is until he saw that Ron was asleep. He was lying prostrate across his bed and seemed to be speaking to his pillow. Harry started when Ron began violently beating his fists into the unfortunate pillow and seemed to be gasping for breath. Alarmed, Harry got up quickly, fully awake now. He had never seen Ron act anything like this, conscious or unconscious. Okay, well maybe sometimes… but still! This looked to be important.

"Ron. Ron, wake up!" Harry jumped back as Ron took a swing at him. What was he dreaming about? When Harry tried to wake him again, Ron rolled over on his back and threw the pillow at him. Deciding that was the last straw, Harry went down to the washroom and filled a glass of water. He knew that what he was getting ready to do was very cruel but he didn't appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night and then nearly getting a black eye.

When he came back into the room, Ron had flopped back over onto his stomach and was muttering into the mattress. Standing in what he hoped was out of Ron's reach, Harry was about to throw some very cold water on his best friend when he overheard some of what Ron was saying.

"Couldn't help it… didn't… mean to… filthy muggles… no! Don't!" But Harry did and staggered backwards into the wardrobe when Ron jumped into the air, very wet and indignant.

"Harry! What the bloody hell was that for?" he sputtered loudly.

"_Me_? What were you muttering about?" Harry responded indignantly. "You sounded half mad!"

Ron looked surprised at Harry's last statement but as he wiped the water from his face, his expression became carefully blank.

"You know," he said, "I… I don't think… I don't think I remember what happened." He stifled a huge yawn with one hand as he got up and wrung out his shirttail, unusually calm. Harry got the distinct feeling that Ron was lying to him but decided to let it go. He glanced over at the clock only to see that it was just past one in the morning.

"Well, as long as we're both up, I've got something I've been meaning to ask you about all day. Has there been news about attacks lately? I mean, there was this thing on the muggle news this morning about three people killed and I was just wondering…" Harry trailed off as he looked up and saw Ron's face. In the moonlight that came through the window, he could see that his friend had gone exceptionally white under his freckles, his calm façade wiped away. "What is it?" He asked cautiously. Ron had been acting very strange tonight.

At Harry's question Ron seemed to come back to himself, all expression melting from his face just as quickly as it had when Harry had questioned him about his dream. "No Harry, there hasn't been any news. Probably just some accident. Go back to bed." And with that, he got into bed, rolled over and refused to say anything else. Seeing as how it was the middle of the night, Harry once again decided to let Ron's strange behavior slide and also rolled over and went back to sleep.

Ron lay quietly awake, listening to the sound of Harry's snores. He knew that Harry knew he was lying to him, he only hoped he wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning. The truth was, Ron was terrified. He'd been having odd dreams for a while now, since the end of the school year. They had always seemed so real and tonight hadn't been any different.

As he mulled over what had happened in his dream, Ron tried to convince himself that what Harry had said didn't have anything to do with it. Those deaths were completely unrelated. He hadn't told anyone about the dreams, and was still hoping that they would go away. They were seriously messing with his sleeping patterns.

The days passed by rather uneventfully up until Harry's birthday. They had a small celebration in the Weasley's back yard, which Fred and George presided over with lots of sudden explosions and questionable sweets. Mrs. Weasley baked an enormous cake, big enough to feed two whole Weasley clans and a handful of others. Before it was cut, Harry had a very vivid image of a certain redhead leaping out of the icing, but he quickly squelched those thoughts.

It wasn't until Mrs. Weasley had gone inside to wash up and everyone else was occupied with Harry's new magic eight ball (courtesy the Weasley twins) that he noticed Ron trying to sneak off. After the first night, he had dropped the subject of the murders and the dream, and thought now would be a good time to ask Ron again. Quietly, he detached himself from the group and followed Ron away from the house.

After they had reached a significant distance from the house, Ron stopped abruptly and turned to face him. "I know what you want to ask me Harry. But I can't tell you. I don't really know for myself." Ron said all of this very fast, as though he'd been thinking about it for a while.

"I'm just worried about you Ron, I know you've had more of those dreams, you thrash about in your sleep whenever you do." Harry laughed quietly, "I never thought I'd be the one asking someone about the weird dreams they have."

"Look Harry, I understand it may seem odd but, I just… that first night you were here. And you asked me about those muggles…" he trailed off and raked his hand through his hair rather roughly. "I've been having these dreams all summer. Where I'm… I don't know. It's like I can see through the eyes of another person. Everything feels so real. I just don't really know what to make of it." He looked so completely unsure that at first Harry didn't know what to say to him. It was not what he'd been expecting at all.

"Well, have you told anyone else? Maybe you should ask Dumbledore what they mean. I wish I had." They both grew silent for a moment, thinking about Sirius.

"I don't know Harry, what if they really mean something… what if they aren't just weird dreams? What if what I see happen to these people is real?" Ron sat down hard on the ground, starring up at Harry to give him an answer. Harry didn't have one.

"Ron," Harry whispered, "what do you see?"

"Those muggles you told me about, I think I saw them die." Ron looked down at his hands. "I've seen terrible things, Harry. I don't really know how any of it could be real. But then you asked me about those people and, well, I just don't know. I've seen so much."

"Ron, I…"

"Ron, Harry! What are you two doing out here? Mum says it's time to come in. Why are you on the ground Ron?" Ginny stood about ten feet away with her hands on her hips, starring oddly at Ron. "Are you crying?" She asked incredulously. Ginny looked as if she couldn't decide to be worried or point and laugh. "Well, um, as soon as you two finish up your manly bonding episode you're to finish with the washing up Ron."

Harry watched as Ginny flounced off, knowing that Ron wouldn't tell him anything else that night. He sighed to himself and gave Ron a hand up before they followed her into the house.

Okay, well I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I know it took me about a million years to get it out. I think the only thing that needs to be mentioned is the magic eight ball. I know I didn't really talk about it, but it'll come again and just in case I forget to say it later, I got the idea from someone else. I forget who and I know some people get annoyed and bitchy if things aren't mentioned and they're like, blah blah blah, you stole my idea, blah blah blah.

Anyway, I'll try and keep up with writing, no promises; I'm so bad with this. So for now, I bid you adieu.


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